1,432 NICK PARKER, Flo Parker Bombosch, B Sydes, Swindon The Hop, Friday 6th March 2026

 

Right, this one makes 3 gigs in Swindon so far this year, so I’m already up on 2025! And a welcome return to my Dance Card as well, after a 2 year absence, for Glastonbury’s folk/ punk solo acoustic guy Nick Parker. We’d actually attempted to get Nick to do a short turn at my 60^th Birthday Party last year and things initially looked promising; however the man had an offer to play at Glastonbury Festival instead so took that up. Damn Glasto, but I can’t blame him really! Anyway, this date kicks off a short Spring tour for the man and unfortunately, due to other gigs and family commitments, is the only one on this jaunt we can get to! No back-up band for this one, then, but a couple of familiar yet welcome supports to augment Nick and his wry wordplay, observational lyricism and easy folk-tinged harmony. A good one in prospect, then… 

It being local and on a Friday, Logan and boyfriend Kristian joined me as I drove up the hill, parking behind the Vic and wandering into the Hop, running into old Lev mate Rich Carter and his new lady for the first time since Frank Turner’s show 3000 last year! Quick catch up before we headed upstairs, grabbing a spot near the front, house left for the first support, namely Swindon’s own (oh yes he is now!) B Sydes. Reacting to the hearty applause from the already amply-filled room with a self-deprecating, “I wouldn’t applaud too soon – it’s my first gig of the year!”, Ben nonetheless set to his task with a focus and determination to get the crowd properly warmed up. “Crutches” was as ever a great start, taut and tense as ever despite a mid-song glitch (“I blame my guitar – it’s Nick Parker’s old one and I’m terrified of it!”) and urgent, insistent newie “Streaming Infidelities” featured an audience harmony singalong outro. A couple of other new numbers, including a dark, sinister emo-tinged “Beast” and a more measured and melancholy Dashboard-esque closing “Head Full Of Screams” (the title track of his forthcoming album) featured in a surprisingly short-feeling yet rousing, inclusive and in-your-face set as ever from the irrepressible Mr. Sydes. 

The Big Man joined us down the front for the first Parker of the night, namely Nick’s daughter Flo Parker Bombosch, flying solo tonight and next up at 8.45. In contrast to Ben’s more overt emo-esque delivery, Flo demonstrated that a whisper can be as powerful as a shout, her perfectly enunciated set as delightful and absorbing as it was understated and introspective, happily reciprocated with a pindrop-perfect hush by the now-packed Swindon crowd. “On This Rock” was a wistful alt-Americana ballad; a more textural new number featured an impressive octave-straddling repetitive choral hook; and “Half A Year” had a lovely pastoral slacker vibe. In between numbers, Flo lamented her home-moving status (“[I’ve] only 4 CDs [for sale tonight] as I’m moving home and packed up by accident!”) before praising our attention with, “you’re such a respectable audience… no, respectful!”. Lovely stuff, once again!

Kept our front spots for Nick’s arrival at 9.30, the svelte Mr. Parker opening with oldie “Here With You”, a diss track for unimaginative punters, then following up with a more upbeat, jolly and singalong “Down With The Yoof”. Commenting on the opening track, he then resolved to, “stick with the singalong ones!”, keeping said promise with a lively “Never Been To Dublin”, really getting the crowd’s vocal chords working!

Thereafter Nick delivered a wonderfully engaging, warm-hearted frothy mug of cocoa of a set, his familiar hooky melodies as ever shot through with incisive and impish wordplay and plenty of between-song exposition, bonhomie and banter. An early duet with Flo led to a dad-joke level running pun-fest centring around Pearl Jam’s “Evenflow” (even Flo?), Nick even commenting that a Nirvana tribute band featuring his daughter might be called “Smells Like Teen Bedroom”, with Flo indignantly retorting, “I’m 25!” “Departures” was a brilliant roof-raiser from the off, Nick presciently remarking after the intro, “this is going to be so much fun…!” and lamenting afterwards, “I wish I was recording [that singalong] for a live album!” “Living Again” was a melancholy, stark yet beautiful outlier to all the upbeat carousing; the retrospective 80’s tribute “Half of the Moon” was preceded by a lengthy explanation as to the “Chuckie Egg” tour name and merch; and Ben joined Nick for a rollicking rendition of The Weakerthans’ “Aside”. Flo then returned for a delicate and wistful “Guess I’ll Never Know”, Nick thanking the crowd for their attentiveness for her set, then after an uproarious “Wild Rover” (featuring slightly amended verses!), a thoroughly entertaining set concluded with “Es Tut Mir Leid” (Logan and Kristian acting as 2 of the placard holders!) and a fun if throwaway version of Sheryl Crow’s alt-country staple “If It Makes You Happy”, featuring all 3 of tonight’s performers. Quick compliments and farewells to all and sundry, and we headed off just before our parking ticket expired. Excellent, singalong fun night out, thanks to Nick and Ben… and even Flo!

1,319 NICK PARKER AND THE FALSE ALARMS, Siobhan and The Sunset Haze, The Lost Post, Winchester The Railway Inn, Saturday 23rd March 2024

 

If Nick Parker had half the voracious “live” work ethic as his former Company Of Thieves bandmate Gaz Brookfield, he’d likely be right up there atop my “most seen” list with the Bard of Purton; as it is, tonight represents the 9^th time we’ve crossed paths, which at least elevates him to 40-somethingth on said list… This affable and talented tunesmith surprised us all by slipping out a new original album at the end of last year in “Ow Denny Rayne and the Jistal Parts”, his first such since 2017 and once again, a masterpiece of beautifully crafted, varied and accomplished indie-folk with the Parker trademarks of warm humour, intricately observational Dury/ Squeeze-esque lyricism and easy melodic earworm hooks. And in “Living Again”, a gem of a song, for me likely his best yet and one which firmly encapsulated my mood at the end of 2023, following a couple of turbulent years. Time to fall in love with living again, indeed!

And part of this process would of course be a Nick Parker gig, particularly with his equally accomplished band The False Alarms. The “Nick Parker should probably tour tour” only featured a smattering of full band gigs, however, a couple too early for me to drive to due to my knee op, and the Winchester Railway Inn Saturday gig featuring an 18+ caveat. Boo! However, a word in the ear of accommodating promoter Jack got Logan in (thanks Jack!), so we hit the road for a circuitous cross-country drive down, dumping the motor in the station car park after a bit of confusion and enjoying some pre-gig nosh in Turtle Bay in town. Back to the evocative old pub to join the queue to get into the small, black-painted side venue; with most tickets sold, this one might get sweaty… Openers The Lost Post were on at 8.15; a 3 piece led by a tall cowboy-hatted vocalist, they plied a decent trade in dark Spaghetti Western or Coen Brothers soundtrack murder ballads, recalling (to my ears at least) the likes of Violent Femmes, the baroque atmospherics of 60’s band Love and even Neutral Milk Hotel in parts. Intriguing and a decent start. 

Better was to come however in main support Siobhan and The Sunset Haze, a 5-piece led by the aforementioned Siobhan, a tiny but chatty hippie chick who led her charges onstage, lamenting her recent absence from gigging due to a broken foot (I know the feeling, dear…). She exhorted us all to dance to their bright, fiddly diddly hoedown opener, but “Raise Your Glass”, second number in, was much more in my wheelhouse, an unexpected power-chord propelled punky emo stomper with a soaring hook belted out by the vocalist. Impressive. The subsequent set was enjoyably varied too, with “Drunken Carnival” a robust indie folk banger with a stream-of-consciousness chorus, and another “angry song” following “Lilies”, an understated ballad. “Witching Hour” answered the burning question as to what an 80’s goth Steeleye Span would sound like (!), and overall, this young band left a very favourable impression indeed… 

We kept our places down the front, despite working up a sweat in this now-packed little room just by standing there! Nick greeted us on his way onstage to set up, and I chatted briefly about what “Living Again” meant to me. In short order, however, he and the band were ready to go, kicking off at 9.30 with the beautiful lyrical detail and climactic musical build of “Departures”, dedicated, rather tongue in cheek, to “anyone who’s flown here today…”! Thereafter we were treated to a mammoth 1 hour 50 set (!) encompassing the breadth of Nick’s oeuvre, delivered with warmth and open heartedness by a gregarious, engaging (and newly svelte!) performer, ably backed by his brilliantly virtuoso team of musicians, particularly the two instrument-swapping Johns, Messrs’ Leonard and Hare, who varied between tin whistle, squeezebox, banjo and keys, often within the same song! “Maison D’Etre” was preceded by Nick commenting on Logan’s Pit Viper sunglasses, then referencing the pitch of the recent London crowd, who sang louder than his monitors and came across like, “a wedding party singing “Take On Me”!” “Don’t Play The Kerryman” was a delightful drinking song swayalong, but the subsequent “Living Again” was my set highlight, stark, emotive and epic in equal measure, including a subtle nod to me from Nick. Nice one – thanks Nick.

 “After All”, the, “angry teenager song I wrote in 1994!” recalled Sugar’s “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” in its’ breathless undulating groove; Nick’s niece joined him onstage for a touching duet to “Guess I’ll Never Know”; and late newie “Dolly Parton” had tinges of “Sgt. Pepper” Beatles off-kilter psych. Nick then eschewed the encore malarkey (“we’ve all got homes to go to – actually we’re going out out tonight!”), delivering a solo nostalgic “Half Of The Moon” before the inevitable and insanely jolly “Es Tut Mir Leid” and a frantic instrumental hoedown, the discordant opening and dramatic sweep of “Half A Song For Suzy” then closing out proceedings. Without a barrier to lean on, my knee had been barking at me for much of the last hour, but I’m glad I stuck it out, although we left promptly after a brief merch desk chat with Siobhan and fond farewells from the Star of the Show, limping down to the car park for a swift drive home. Great gig, possibly the best I’ve seen from Nick and Co. Here’s hoping for plenty more in future!

1,185 THE 2021 WICKHAM FESTIVAL (Saturday only), Saturday 7th August 2021

 “A Great Boy’s Day Out!” was my summary of my inaugural Saturday trip to Wickham Folk Festival with my 2 sons, back in 2019, so this mid-sized event, musically admittedly at the periphery of my largely indie/ punk/ rock tastes, nonetheless remained firmly on my radar. So a repeat Saturday trip for myself and Logan was “on” for 2020’s Saturday, once said day announced an itinerary including full band performances from our local folk/ punk favourite Gaz Brookfield, a return for the splendid Nick Parker and a first opportunity to see New Wave veteran singer-songwriter Nick Lowe, plus a “surprise” headliner, all clues at the time pointing hopefully to Elvis Costello but ultimately turning out to be veteran Irish folk/ bluesman Van Morrison! Also not necessarily to my tastes, but one worth adding to the gig CV…

 Then… Covid hit, wiping out all Summer 2020’s festival activities, despite early hopes that lockdown might be lifted in time to get this event on… The whole bill was “rolled” to 2021, tickets and all, so we held on to our tix in the hopes that the bill would stand pat. Unfortunately, despite all restrictions being eased in time to get the event on, the bill was affected with non-UK acts not being able to attend, and Gaz Brookfield – a type 1 Diabetic who had spent much of the lockdown period self-isolating for his health and who, entirely understandably, didn’t feel ready to perform – also announcing his withdrawal. Some bad news also leading up to the event, with “problems” with the main stage requiring a rejig of the stages and running times, and poor weather reportedly rendering the site and surrounds more than a bit muddy…!

 Still, we were still up for the day out (a bit of mud never stopped the rock!), so we headed down South late morning on a cloudy but (so far) dry day, pulling off the main road and into the “Day Parking” queue about 12.30. 15 minutes later, we were still stuck there in an immovable queue, with cars in front of us turning tail and heading back out. After questioning one such driver who informed me that the parking field was “a quagmire”, we followed suit, speaking rather unsatisfactorily to a festival steward on the way out (“anywhere else to park?” – “No, sorry” – “but I hear it’s a quagmire!” – “yes, we’re towing cars on and off the field” – “that’s a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” – “sorry, mate, I didn’t ask for it to rain…”) then desultorily heading back the way we came, seriously considering packing it in and going home, even at this early stage, if there was no alternative to leaving the car in the bog! Luckily a local small Garden Centre opened their overspill car park for us (“you might as well park in there, I’ve a feeling we’re going to be sent more cars shortly…”), so we donned heavy boots and squelched our way through a soggy campsite to the main arena. Same site as before, situated on the side of a hill, but this time all the stalls, activities etc. were clinging to the perimeter of the site, ironically where the mud was the worst! Still, we navigated our way through the mud to the Big Top tent in the corner – 2019’s second stage, this year’s makeshift main one – for our first act YOUNG ‘UNS, a largely acapella trio bemoaning the fact that a sudden surge in popularity of sea shanties – their stock-in-trade – coincided with their not being able to perform them due to lockdown! Still, a couple of rousing numbers about class struggles through the ages (Stefan Cush would be looking down proudly, I thought) and a lovely poignant closer “Tiny Little Notes” (about a girl who leaves notes on a Sunderland bridge imploring people not to take their own lives) punctuated an entertaining start.

 

We wandered down the front, Logan grabbing some barrier and myself chatting to fellow fan Claire, braving the entire weekend with her boys, for NICK PARKER AND THE FALSE ALARMS, on at 10 to 2. With Gaz’ withdrawal, Nick’s set was suddenly the crux of our day, and happily the man delivered – big time! “Never Been To Dublin” was a joyous, raucous opener, encapsulating Nick’s oeuvre of folk-tinged but deceptively hooky melody and intelligent, well-crafted storytelling. The man remarked, “lovely weather!” and gave a shout-out to the site crew before a soaring, singalong “Make Yourself At Home”, Nick remarking at the ovation at its’ conclusion with, “I’ve missed the clapping at the end of my songs!”. A well-chosen set delivered singalong banger after singalong banger, the unprompted “ba-ba” fill-in’s during “Departures” and the hoedown denouement to “Terry And June” proving early highlights, before Nick introduced the Worley family, mum and 2 kids, for the traditional sign-aloft prompts during an excellent “Es Tut Mir Leid”. The little girl was an absolute star, waving her sign as if her life depended on it, then going utterly bat-s-word crazy during another subsequent hoedown. A great set ended, appropriately, on an unnamed song of hope, because that’s what we all need right now, right?

 Logan persuaded me to buy him the Nick Parker hoodie that the merch lady persuaded him to try on (!), and we had a brief chat with Nick during the opening numbers of former Clannad frontperson MOYA BRENNAN’s subsequent set. With 2 harps as part of the stage set-up, this was always going to be a very quiet offering, her wispy traditional Irish melodies evoking mists rolling in off a dusky evening loch, so no surprise Nick kept shushing me during our chat – I do tend to talk a bit loud, me…! Time to kill thereafter, so we trudged through the mud to the far end of the site, by the half-built and wind-battered main stage (apparently said stage was delivered both too small and too late, hence its’ abandonment!), sussing out possible tea destinations amongst the half dozen eateries clustered around the wooden picnic benches. Took the weight off awhile, but a fine misty rain began to fall so we sought shelter in the small Marquee second stage. HATTIE HATSTAR provided some fun mid-afternoon diversion – looking like Mel Giedroyc’s older sister in pink bloomers but coming across musically like a cross between They Might Be Giants and Frank Sidebottom, through a Sarah Millican filter (OK I’m reaching here a bit, bear with me…), she swapped between accordion and ukulele and sung quirky ditties such as, “I want to give birth to a Clanger because Clangers are made of pink wool” (accompanied by her very own crowd-surfing Clanger!), “Dance like a twat – because life’s too short not to”, and the one about loving one’s pets more than one’s partner. Funny, wry and observational, Hattie was the (Hat) star of a barmy but entirely entertaining set!

 Tea beckoned then, so we split a pork roll before a wander back to the main stage for SETH LAKEMAN. A singer-songwriter I was totally unfamiliar with, his Irish tinged pop melodies were passable, no more, but attracted a big crowd, so what do I know, hey? Anyway, we circumnavigated the tent in increasingly glutinous conditions (Logan almost getting stuck in a particularly deep puddle!), to take a good viewing position as the Lakeman massive exited at the end of his set.

 

NICK LOWE was next up at 6 – a veteran of early 70’s pub rock staples Brinsley Schwarz, he’d then dovetailed in nicely with the late 70’s proto New Wave singer-songwriter crowd centred around Stiff Records, as performer, songwriter and producer, and enjoyed a brief flurry of “pop” hits before, like his contemporary Elvis Costello, ploughing a more exploratory and idiosyncratic furrow through various musical genres, more bluesy and rootsy than those late 70’s New Wave days. I confess I own a grand total of 2 Nick Lowe albums, both from those days, so much of this set was largely unfamiliar to me. Also, Nick had unfortunately fallen foul of the UK Covid passport rules, his intended lucha libre wrestler-masked Mariachi backing band Los Straitjackets being stuck in Mexico (!), so, in his words, “you’ve got me on my jack!” However, initial disappointments were soon allayed by the man’s quiet, understated delivery and the charmingly classy song-writing quality of the material. The man can put a tune together, no messin’!

 Showing various facets of his musical oeuvre, this was a virtuoso meander through a varied and impressive canon. Bluesy opener “Man That I’ve Become” ceded to more upbeat, almost 50’s rockabilly-esque gallops such as “Long Limbed Girl” and “Love Starvation”, the more introspective balladry of “People Change” and the gorgeous “Lately I’ve Let Things Slide”, and even an unexpected cover of the Bee Gee’s 80’s cheese-fest “Heartbreaker”. But, inevitably “Cruel To Be Kind”, delivered 40 minutes in and accompanied with a comment of, “that’s not even my best song – but it’s the one the public heard and said, THAT is a hit, so thank you!”, was my highlight. Well, until a slow-burn and plaintive rendition of “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace Love and Understanding”, anyway…! A rambunctious “I Knew The Bride (When She Used To Rock’n’Roll”) concluded a fine hour from the great man – splendid stuff!

 

We hovered outside the tent, house left, afterwards – ostensibly hoping to catch a word with Mr. Lowe should he emerge from backstage (he never did) – as VAN MORRISON kicked his very bluesy set into gear with “Deadbeat Saturday Night” and “Three Chords And The Truth”. By this time, however, interest was waning and limbs were tired of fighting against the mud, so we called it a day 20 minutes or so in, after a false start and quick dash back upfield to see Van do Them’s 60’s classic, the Doors-like rocker “Baby Please Don’t Go”, which he merged in with an equally raucous “Got My Mojo Working”. Which, indeed he did have, fair play to him, but we were done.

 A slow squelch out and a quick drive saw us home about 9.30 after a varied day. A Wickham Festival Saturday that was in all honesty a bit of a dog’s breakfast – part of me can’t help thinking that contingency plans could have sorted some issues, whilst recognising others were out of the organisers’ collective control. However, we both enjoyed the two Nicks at least, so all in all, another memorable (at least!) Boy’s Day Out!

1,171 NICK PARKER AND THE FALSE ALARMS, Abdoujaparov, Worcester Marrs Bar, Friday 10th January 2020

The first gig of the year – nay, of the decade – was a bit of a late call… I’d been on to Marr’s Bar to see if I could get Logan into this rare “full band” outing from Nick Parker, one of his favourite folk/ punk/ pop travelling troubadours (particularly so, given that this gig was due to be recorded for a future “live” album), but the 14+ only stipulation was sadly immovable. Thereafter I’d just let it slip my mind, intending to take my little man to the pics instead to see “1917”, only to find on the day that this was a 15 certificate! D’oh! However, Facebook came to my rescue, as comments from both my friend Rich and his mate Terry confirmed their attendance, so I got a late ticket and invite from the boys to tag along!

An early pick-up for a late departure at 7.30 saw us hammer up the M5, double-quick time, and park up in a muddy car park just around the corner from the venue, after a couple of laps around the town centre. My first time at this one – indeed, my first ever gig in Worcester! – and this small, scuzzy venue was already well-attended by the Parker faithful. Nick was at the merch stand, gleefully shaking hands with all and sundry, announcing, “this is great – I know pretty much everyone here!” Indeed, it seemed as though the whole Parker massive had come out of hibernation for this one, as I ran into both fellow Swindonians Grant and his wife Lisa, and also Claire, who I’d ran into whilst chatting to Nick at Wickham Festival!

Anyway, first on were Abdoujaparov. My previous exposure to former Jamie Wednesday guitarist and Carter USM wingman Les “Fruitbat” Carter’s current musical project, at Shiiine On 2018 (gig 1,112), was less than impressive, so hopes weren’t high as a jovial Fruitbat led his charges through some early doors old school punk rock with unsurprising Carter USM-esque song structures and flippant, punnish wordplay. Indeed, an early number recalled “Heads Down No Nonsense Mindless Boogie” by obscure 70’s comedy punkers Alberto Y Los Trios Paranoias, and another had a “Dark Entries”-esque thrashy descending riff! I actually warmed to this set as Fruitbat seemed to be throwing the kitchen sink at it – a Ukranian-style jig-fest here, a Coral-esque sea shanty there, and a flippant but fun terrace chant about umbrellas being my set favourite. It felt a little overlong, but infinitely better than that Shiiine On debacle, a point I also made to Les himself at the end of the gig, also recalling those Jamie Wednesday days!

I took a wander down the front as Nick and The False Alarms – all 7 of them! – squeezed onto the cramped and busy stage, before kicking off a little early at 10 to 10 with the rousing Irish jig of “Never Been To Dublin” Straightaway this engendered a mass singalong from the Parker devotees, a state of affairs which pretty much continued all night, the gig feeling similar in atmosphere and general bonhomie to Gaz Brookfield’s “AGM of lovely people,” last time out. Nick himself sported a cheesy grin throughout, often remarking, “this is fun! Can we do this again next year?”, and threw himself into the performance, often laudably red-faced and sweating buckets for the cause, and looking after his congregation too, inquiring, “this is all good-natured, right?” every time an often violent mosh broke out.

“Make Yourself At Home” was a soaring, roof-raising early delight, “Down With The Yoof” a joyous ragged reel with some exemplary fiddle from the ubiquitous Ben Wain, and “Could We At Least Try” saw Nick and multi-instrumentalist Tom split the audience to fill out the harmony parts of song characters “Larissa” and “Sebastian”. However an amazing cover of Sugar’s classic popcore number “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” was a startling mid-set highlight, seeing me rock out like those 90’s Lev’s days to this irresistibly catchy number, which Nick and the boys did full justice to. Nick’s daughter Flo then joined him onstage to duet on a stark “Guess I’ll Never Know”, delivering a beautiful world-weary vocal well beyond her years. A couple of real contrasting numbers, but both stunning.

A couple of moshs broke out to later numbers, as I ran into a hairy specimen in the mosh wearing the same “B-Sydes” t-shirt as me (right down to the same purple colour!), grabbing ahold of him and shouting, “fuck me, it’s like looking in a mirror!” Les Carter then joined the False Alarms onstage (making that stage even more cramped!) for a run through of Carter USM’s “Only Living Boy In New Cross”, splendidly authentic right down to the pulsing beat and gabbling denouement. “Song For Suzy” finally rounded off a splendidly ragged-arsed, frantic yet totally fun singalong set, a damn fine way to kick off gigging year 2020!

After the aforementioned chat with Les and a quick word with a sweaty and elated Nick about Sugar, I located the boys and we headed off for an equally breakneck journey home. Shame Logan couldn’t join us for that, but actually that mosh might’ve been a bit much for him. So, glad I went – this may have been a late call, but t’was a great call!

1,149 WICKHAM FESTIVAL (Saturday only), Saturday 3 August 2019

I’d been looking for an opportunity to take nascent gig-goer Logan along to his first Festival – we’d considered a day at Reading this year but he wasn’t too keen – and this small-to-mid size event seemed a perfect opportunity to start. A well-established 3-day event down near Portsmouth, this one has its’ roots firmly in the traditional folk and blues genres and still majorly catered for those styles on its’ bill, but a few enticing acts peppered the Saturday bill, none more so than headliner Frank Turner, popular folk/punk troubadour, live favourite of ours and (given the proximity of his home town Winchester to this venue) homecoming hero! Another advantage was that research indicated the 2 main stages were both under big top cover, thus allaying any fears Logan particularly had about weather. The weekend also coincided with a visit from Evan, my now grown-up son; he’d accompanied me to a Reading Fest slight return in 2013 (gig 884) and was happy to subject himself to unfamiliar music for another day, so it turned into a Boy’s Day Out!

So we set off promptly just after 10, looking out for holiday getaway traffic but avoiding a chunk of New Forest-bound stuff thanks to Evan’s navigation skills taking us cross-country to Wickham village. Parked up therefore just before 12 in the hay field opposite the Festival site, wandering around to the entrance. A compact, 7,000 capacity site clinging to the side of a small hill overlooking a picturesque Hampshire valley, a quick wander revealed a bohemian collection of Festival stalls and small side stages, and a wide variety of eats. The clientele reflected this too; a wide spread of ages, families and styles giving the Fest a relaxed and inclusive feel. After sorting the boys with Festival sunnies (not much use early doors as it was overcast, but still…), we set folding chairs up on the skirts of the smaller Village Stage tent for an initial base camp. First act proper (we’d popped briefly into a side tent where a makeshift band from local college St. Vincents’ music department – featuring a female vocalist with an impressive strident range – were stomping over some rock covers) were THE WILSONS, an acapella trio delivering some charming lunchtime folky sea shanties. Nick Parker showed up, shaking my hand and remembering Logan, and we also chatted to a fellow Nick fan Claire, who was there for the weekend with her kids and who remembered Logan from his Gaz Brookfield Southampton onstage antics! Second act WINTER WILSON, with their more sparse and baroque, and occasionally almost medieval feeling, pastoral folk, provided the background to our conversation, but thereafter Logan and I were bound for the stage, front and centre!

Our first act of interest, at 1.45, was indeed the aforementioned Mr. P, with his full band. The first time, shamefully, that I’d seen NICK PARKER AND THE FALSE ALARMS in all their glory, and they were great, the full band adding an extra dimension to Nick’s easy folky-pop melody and wry observational lyricism, “Never Been To Dublin Before” proved an apposite opener, Nick remarking, “all the people mentioned [in the chorus] have played here!” the rendition featuring some excellent sawing from fiddle player Ben Wain (also of Gaz’ Company Of Thieves), much to the delight of a woman behind me, who’d recognised Ben from school music lessons! “Down With The Yoof” was rambunctious and ramshackle fun, an oldie “Jerusalem” (“from an earlier album – I found 250 copies of it and they’re all over by the merch stand!” deadpanned Nick) featured a yearning and soaring chorus, and “Departures” was my set favourite, slow burn and slow building, the excellent lyric reflecting the glorious mundanity of an airport departure lounge. Overall, cracking, joyous and uplifting stuff with huge smiles all around; definitely not the last time I catch the full band, and I also appreciate a performer such as Nick who sweats profusely for his art!

Congrats afterwards, then whilst the boys went off to check out other attractions (Logan to the bouncy castle laser tag, Evan to watch some circus jugglers), I caught THE NEWCRANES set from base camp, as the sun attempted to break through the hazy cloud cover. Festival veterans, they played a raucous and upbeat, slightly punky fiddly-diddly set of the type which, post-Gaz, I’m much more kindly disposed to these days. Shades of Pele and Mick O’Toole in a diverting set, my favourite number being one which started slowly and funereally, but then sped up to raucous moshpit catnip. The boys returned and we checked out LIL’ JIMMY REED AND THE “A” TEAM, next up. Reed, an 80 year old old school Mississippi delta bluesman, alongside his virtuoso pianist sidekick, played a mix of piano and guitar-led tears-in-the-beers blues, proto-rockabilly and impressively groovy and more upbeat honky tonk material. The first number reminded these admittedly uneducated (in this genre, at least) ears of The Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues”, and others recalled the likes of Fats Domino’s “Blueberry Hill” and suchlike. Not my normal cup of tea, but I enjoyed this and could appreciate a master craftsman at work; as could not only a large crowd assembled in the tent, but also Evan, who disappeared in after 2 numbers and emerged at set-end, declaring Jimmy, “awesome!” So much so, if fact, that the next step was to join a large queue to pick up a Jimmy Reed CD, for Evan to get signed, and to meet the great man to exchange some words about the blues. Awesome, indeed!

This led us to a relative lull in proceedings, so we grabbed some tea (nice Thai green curry for me!) and plonked ourselves by the main Valley Stage tent overspill, chowing down with DERVISH’s more traditional and plaintive Irish folk as a pleasant background. A trip back to the car to dump foldaway chairs, and we were ready for the evening’s mainstage festivities. Back into the Valley Stage tent just as the Dervish crowd were dispersing, so we got some splendid viewing spots in front of the speaker stack, house right, for GRACE PETRIE, on at 6.30. A soloist, political (personal and party) activist singer-songwriter, she’d impressed mightily during her Frank Turner support slot earlier this year (gig 1,121) not only with an excellent clutch of thought-provoking folk/Americana tinged numbers, but also some passionate yet easy repartee and connection with her audience. More of the same tonight with some witty yet barbed comments (“[I’ve released] 6 albums about how not to vote for the Tories; another one out next year – I’ve got a good feeling about this one!” and “I’ve noticed a number of nippers in the audience; I’m sorry, but I’ll be using bad words – I’ll be saying “Tories” a lot…!” were a couple of early rejoinders), an anti-Theresa May tirade, and an excellent early “Farewell To Welfare”, committed, impassioned and riveting. The one “happy” song, about her niece, was dispensed with early so she could concentrate on the other 2 aspects of her oeuvre – angry and sad! – yet most of the material was as uplifting as it was pointed, “Black Tie” (preceded by the comment, “I’m dressed like this [in black tie and waistcoat] because… I’ve got a snooker match after the gig!”) being a case in point, a letter to her 15-year old self to say everything’s gonna be OK. “Northbound” rounded off another fine set from Grace, after which I noticed (during a quick loo trip) that she was utterly besieged at the merch stand, having clearly resonated with a large part of this audience.

I was back in, however, for my 2 highlights; firstly THE MEN THEY COULDN’T HANG, 80’s folk-tinged political punk rockers and class struggle historians, on at 8. I’d been playing TMTCH stuff to Logan for years but this was the first opportunity to subject him to a live performance (their clutch of 2010-13 Swindon gigs coming too early, and their more recent SLF O2 support slot falling on a school night), and thankfully they delivered in spades. “Ghosts Of Cable Street” was a brilliant singalong opener, pointedly dedicated by vocalist Stefan Cush to, “Tommy Robinson and his ilk… it’s like Hitler never existed!” and even more relevant now than ever, reflecting the tension of these troubled political times. “Wishing Well” and “Coventry” was a superbly rocking double salvo, “Bounty Hunter” slightly understated but still a raucous singalong, and “Smugglers” likewise, Logan gleefully pogoing on his barrier spot. “Green Fields Of France” was a gut-wrenching and poignant reminder of the horrors of war, however “Ironmasters” was the brilliant highlight, the boys cutting loose with a rabid and rattlingly good rendition, during which I conducted the crowd behind me in the singalong chorus. (Evan had taken a loo break halfway through the set and claimed he couldn’t get back… I suspect he didn’t want to hear his dad singing embarrassingly loudly!).

Brilliant stuff overall from The Men! A friendly roadie scrunched up the set-list and tossed it over to me, and a quick loo break revealed a small queue at the merch stand, so I got it signed by The Men, along with a hasty selfe with Stefan and fellow vocalist Phil Odgers. Result! Back in to the increasingly busy stage-front – Evan took a wander, deciding the Frank crush wasn’t for him, but Logan and I stayed on out bit of barrier for the prompt entrance of FRANK TURNER AND THE SLEEPING SOULS at 9 to a huge roar from the biggest crowd of the day. Punk rock for starters; Frank led the band through rip-roaring versions of “Get Better”, “1933” and a punky “Long Live The Queen”, racing around the stage and standing on the bass drum to emphasise his already impressive height. A breather thereafter allowed him to introduce us to, “show 2,372!” along with the usual rules (“don’t be an asshole, sing along), and “If Ever I Stray” and “The Road” really got the crowd roaring along, shaking this tent to its’ foundations.

Frank was his usual buoyant and riveting self, a consummate performer, making light of an early, erm, wardrobe malfunction during “Photosynthesis”, and declaring, “My mum is here tonight!” thence organising a hardcore circle pit (“not a Dorset circle, a proper Hampshire circle!”) in her honour. Frank introduced stand-in bassist Cahir O’Doherty, covering from new dad Tarrant before a poignant yet rocking “Polaroid Picture” and a funky “Blackout” which, as usual saw Frank in the photog pit, communing with the faithful. A touching “Don’t Worry” was preceded by an interesting exposition from Frank (“we were worried about bringing out an album called “Be More Kind” – we thought it might be out-of-date quickly as things might get better…  but it’s all turned to shit!”), and, as ever, a brilliant “I Am Disappeared” was my highlight.

An hour in, Frank paused for his usual solo interlude and we took a wander out for a loo trip, catching another couple of numbers from the outskirts of the tent, “Where I Tend To Be” and a manic “Try This At Home” being late-set highlights. Logan was tiring after a big Festival day, so when Evan reported in at 10.45, we took the opportunity for a quick getaway, those 10 minutes allowing us quick egress from the car park and environs, a swift drive getting us home for 12.20, reflecting on the day. Well done Wickham Festival, you were everything it said on the tin; relaxed and inclusive with excellent facilities, and all the bands we came to see delivered big time. A splendid first Festival for Logan and a great Boy’s Day Out!

1,073 GAZ BROOKFIELD AND THE COMPANY OF THIEVES, Nick Parker, Chris Webb, Southampton Talking Heads, Friday 23rd February 2018

Above pic courtesy of Kit Bliss. Thanks Kit!

Another trip down to Southampton that Logan’s not likely to forget in a hurry…!

First 2018 gig for me in the company of Gaz Brookfield, the ‘Don’s very own folk/punk in-your-face traveling troubadour and old school balladeer; yes I know he lives in Bristol these days but us Swindonians are still claiming him as our own! Having missed his “Christmas works do” as he refers to his annual sold-out Bristol December date, due to it both clashing with the “12 Bands Of Christmas” and, more pertinently, being moved up to the 14+ (and now sadly closed) Bierkeller, thus preventing me from taking Gaz uber-fan Logan along, I was keen to book tix for this, his February weekend full band tour. Southampton was the closest port of call, and e-mail correspondence with the venue confirmed Logan was good to come along, so tix were duly snapped up for my 4th full band Gaz date in the last 5, and my 19^th overall. It’s starting to get up to Seafood-level numbers, this...!

Rach was out too, so Grandma babysat Kasey, and me and Logan packed emergency layers for a chilly drive South on the A34 to Talking Heads, this cool new (for me at least) venue just around from the Guildhall, scene of Logan’s onstage Bowling For Soup shenanigans 2 years ago (gig 974). A diversion around Southampton and a slight parking-mare delayed us, so we hit the venue at 10 to 8 for a quick chat with Gaz on the Merch stand about Logan’s recent diabetes diagnosis, and his current Swim22 sponsored event, Gaz donating £20 on the spot. Chap! Then we checked out the opening act – neatly enough, both support acts were actually members of Gaz’s backing band The Company Of Thieves! So first up, we had Chris Webb, whose solo material I was unfamiliar with prior to this, but whom I enjoyed immensely; quite the paciest and most overtly upbeat of any acoustic performer I’ve recently checked out, his material was often groovy, full-throttle and replete with an over-abundance of lyrics, in a Hold Steady or 1^st Del Amitri album kind of way. Fine by me, I’ve always preferred cutting a short story long…! He greeted Logan, sat cross-legged on the floor, with, “we’ve met before, right?” Correct, at All Roads Lead To Frome, gig 1,036 last May; good memory Chris! “Let’s Crash A Ceilidh” was an early highlight, and the motormouth Chris (often packing as much verbiage into his between-song banter as into his songs!) joked about getting the subsequent “Heat” right about 90% of the time – no surprise as his delivery of this number called to mind Stipe’s garbled vocals on REM’s “It’s The End Of The World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”! “Compass”’ melodic 90’s indie feel capped a fine set from a Gent whose material I’ll certainly get to know better…!

We know all about Nick Parker, however; next up, accompanied by fiddling maestro Benny Wain, he entertained with his laconic, laid back earworm tunes and detailed observational lyrics, his best material as ever reflecting and celebrating the minutiae and mundanity of everyday life, evidenced by splendid opener “Departures”, his ode to a few hours kicking around an airport departure lounge. The knockabout satire of “Down With The Yoof” entertained, then Nick handed out lyric sheets for the audience to sing along to “I Guess I’ll Never Know”, his friend Anna joining him onstage for this touching little ballad. For a brilliantly jaunty “Es Tut Mir Leid”, however, he invited Logan onstage to hold up one of the German phrase signs; as no-one else joined him Logan was tasked with holding all 4 up himself! “Terry And June” rounded off another splendid set from this self-effacing but very wryly talented songsmith.

By now the place was well packed – probably an on-the-door sellout, this! – and Gaz led the thieves onstage at 9.30 for a galloping “World Spins Round” opener, before he incredulously announced, “Southampton! There’s bloody loads of you!”, segueing into “March Of Progress”. Then, before the scheduled and entirely appropriate “Diabetes Blues” he invited Logan onstage, not only telling the audience his diabetes diagnosis story (to a collective, “aaaah”, Gaz replying with, “alright, it’s not a panto!”), but exhorting them to sponsor his Swim22 event! Brilliant! Then, if that wasn’t enough, Nick threw his spare mandolin over Logan’s shoulder, and my son strummed along onstage to “Diabetes Blues”, also duetting on backing vocals with Chris Webb. Another proud dad moment!

Apart from that, the rest of the gig was bloody nails too – “Gunner Haines” sounded immense and fulsome, “Under The Table” was a drunken, all-inclusive swayalong (Gaz remarking, “I’m glad to see everyone wore their singing pants tonight!”), and the band played a quick round of “Grapes”, which involved attempts to catch a grape thrown across the stage in one’s mouth (Nick proving the most successful in this endeavour), before “The Buskers Song”. This number actually saw an amount of money tossed onstage by the crowd, which Gaz immediately donated to Logan’s sponsorship fund! Double Chap!

Gaz rolled out his new toy, a black bodied electric Fender, giving his battered acoustic a rest and lending the likes of a punk rock “I’ve Paid My Money” and a venomous “Black Dog Day” extra strident power. “Diet Of Banality” was a welcome retro delight, skewering manufactured music pointedly and perfectly with the excellent lyric; “let your children hear something real”… oh, I do, Gaz, I do! “Thin” raised the roof and ended the set, but a brilliant “Be The Bigger Man” and rattling, rambunctious “Let The East Winds Blow” closed out the evening, Gaz and the band having sounded brilliantly together throughout, and having put buckets of sweat and effort into delivering a stellar, committed performance.

And true to Gaz’ request, a number of people approached me afterwards with donations for Logan’s Swim22 event! Overwhelmed by the kindness of strangers, I happily collected names and cash, amassing an impressive £87 in total from the night. Wow. Just… wow. Thank you so much, all! Chats and profuse thanks to Gaz and co later, I scooped a tired but elated little man up and we finally hit the road, a diversion around the A4 getting us home at half past midnight. No matter, Saturday’s a lie-in…! What a performance from Gaz and the boys, what an incredible evening!

1,051 NICK PARKER, Swindon “House Show”, Saturday 2nd September 2017

File this one under “It never hurts to ask…!” Splendid Street singer-songwriter and star of Swindon Shuffle Saturday, Nick Parker, announced an early Autumn tour, both solo headline shows and in support of his mate Gaz Brookfield’s solo shenanigans. The nearest Nick/Gaz dates seemed to clash with other things, however, but there was an intriguing “Swindon House Show” on the itinerary. Finding out it was being hosted by my recent gig acquaintance Grant, I put in a tentative request to come along, which was thankfully accepted. As I said, never hurts to ask…!

My initial request was actually threefold, for mate Rich Carter and for Logan as well. Unfortunately Rich’s shift pattern changed and Logan was feeling a little under the weather, so my invite ended up being just for me! I therefore arrived solo at 7.30 to handshakes from Grant and bearhugs from Nick, and enjoyed some convivial historical gig and indie rock chat (James and Carter USM particularly cropping up frequently in conversation!) with Grant’s other guests as they arrived.

We eventually gathered on and around the sofas lining the living room, as Nick took a seat in the window for his first set at 8.30, in front of this small but attentive audience (Nick commenting frequently at how quiet we all were; just paying attention, mate!). First set was a run-through of the highlights from his splendid current album “Besta Venya”, which is rapidly becoming a Rose favourite in the car. The low-key renditions in this intimate setting suited Nick’s material perfectly, as it seemed to shine more emphasis onto his clever and wry wordplay and incisive observational lyrical style. Opener “Departures” was a perfect example, holding up a mirror to the minutiae of humanity at an airport departure lounge, and “Simple Song”, a duet with his German friend Emily, was a sweet and touching ballad. We also were treated to some more extensive between-song chat and trivia regarding the material, with “Make Yourself At Home” being a story of his worst ever gig, and “Down With The Youth” apparently featuring on a forthcoming American TV show! “Es Tut Mir Leid” closed out the opening set, Emily doing a good job of handling all 4 cue cards herself!

Pizza and more rock chat during the interval, including catching up with Nick and passing along Logan’s “entschuldigung” for his non-attendance. We’ll see Nick in February in Southampton, all being well! 10 pm ticked around, and a now more relaxed and “well-refreshed” Nick placed his large glass of red wine on the open window-sill (having opened the window during the first set with a warning comment of, “what about the neighbours?” and receiving the general reply of, “fuck ‘em! There’s more of us than them!”) for the second set, a request-driven selection of his older material, which was largely unfamiliar to me, but generally really easy listening, them apples not falling that far from the tree, after all…! A familiar one to kick off, however, in “Terry And June”, being face-timed by a fellow attendee for his daughter’s birthday, to Nick’s feigning awkwardness and her general embarrassment (particularly the preceding rendition of “Happy Birthday”!). After a Weakerthans cover featuring Emily on lead vocals, it was back to the oldie requests, with a very Dando-esque “The Conjurer”, a folksy, Waterboys-referencing “Never Been To Dublin” and an excellent “Could We At Least Try” (this number being party to my favourite song trivia of the night, the subject being about a guy finding out his girlfriend is a prostitute!) highlights. “Oceanographer” was a lovely, plaintive lament, then “Another Journey Home”, a traditional hum-along set closer, collapsed into a giggle-fest, so “Come On! Jump Over Your Shadow”, which saw those present ring each other for strange echoey sound effects to augment the song, actually rounded off the night.

Chatting, merch and fond farewells before I headed off home, getting lost around unfamiliar territory… D’oh! Nonetheless, this was a fun evening in convivial company, and a performance of 2 halves from Nick Parker; the low-key master craftsman in one, and the red-wine fuelled jovial raconteur and entertainer in the other. Nice work – thanks again to Grant. Glad I asked!